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Over the next few days, the incident at the hotel was everywhere in the media. The Police had called for witnesses to come forward as they were now calling this an international incident connected to drug gangs, judging by the people that had been killed that day. They also informed the press that some innocent people had also been caught up in the shootings, and that an international warrant had been issued for Greg Bourneski who was wanted for questioning over the incident.
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Four days later, Blake woke to find himself strapped to a bed in a plain white room. There was nothing else in there, except a bed and Blake. He looked round for signs of anything he could use to control but found nothing. It was a solid room he was in and as he lay his head back down after trying to struggle free from the steel chains that bound his legs and arms, he stared up at the celling. The lights made his eyes squint, and the vent overhead blew cold air into his eyes that made it hard to keep them open. Blake closed them and focused on the vent. He could hear it shudder in its frame, then a loudspeaker crackled to life.
“Glad you could join us again Blake. I hope you are enjoying your new home!” Grecco said, teasing him.
“You should not play games with him. He is still dangerous.” Markov Bourneski said to his brother.
“That kid will do what we tell him to, and besides. That room is specially made for anything he can do.”
“That’s it though brother. We do not know what he can do!”
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A few months had passed by. The incident at the hotel was still an unsolved crime and it was proving impossible to get any information out of Russia on Greg Bourneski. It was now looking like it was going to take years to finally get those responsible for the killings. The case was shelved until further information could be obtained to move the investigation forward.
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The months had passed by slowly for Frank and Sharon. Billy was still with them, investigating the disappearance of Blake. Shannon had been buried in unmarked grave as the authorities did not have any next of kin to contact to identify the unknown person, and none came forward. Shannon was buried as Joe Doe, and a number was all that identified her from the other graves.
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Frank and Sharon were sat on a bench in a cemetery where all the unknowns were buried. It was a cold day and Sharon huddled close to Frank.
“Which one do you think she is buried in?”
“We have this conversation every time we come here.”
“I know, but it does not feel right not knowing her exact grave.”
“You could have told them who she was? And why do we keep coming here anyway!”
“You know I couldn’t tell them, and you know why we come here. I just cannot explain it Frank, she just feels still alive to me and I cannot let it go.”
“I know she does honey, but you have to let it go. The weather reports say it is minus twenty degrees where we are going in Russia.”
“Really! You had better buy me something nice and warm to wear out there, hadn’t you?”
“I will. Once Billy had figured out where he is.”
“Do you think he will find the exact place he is being kept?”
“He said he can, but we have a region Billy says we can search out there that seems promising. It’s a start.” Frank replied, as they both looked back across the never-ending graves that seemed to stretch out into distance.
The End.